The Dream Path: The Age of Darkness I
by Xaire
Summary: An Ultharian girl goes on a quest to discover the nature of a series of vivid nightmares and visions that plague her.
1. Chapter 1

"Can you tell from the look in her eyes?

We're going nowhere.

We live our life like we're ready to die.

We're going nowhere.

You can run but you'll never escape

Over and over again.

Will we ever see the end?

We're going nowhere."

-"Shadow Moses", by Bring Me the Horizon

Knee deep in the ancient grass, she walked aside the glistening River Skai towards the forest with her cat trotting at her heels. She could see the dark green band of trees far ahead, stretching infinitely to the East and the West (Where the sun was beginning to vanish over the horizon, turning blood red as it did so). This marked the border of the mysterious and forbidden Enchanted Wood where deadly and evil things lurked. Aside from the distant forest and the river where luminescent fish swam and giant insects hovered, there was nothing else to be seen but the endless expanses of grass. Just a day ago, Clair could see the distant lights and chimney smoke of Ulthar, the town she left behind. She had a family there: old Stoua the local carpenter, her father, and Dalia, her mother. There was also Picyna, the local drunk, Atal the priest and his student Kayan and not to mention the immense population of cats of which Ulthar was known for.

All of that was behind her now, Clair's family and the peaceful little town in which she was born and raised. All she had now was her longtime friend and pet, Willow, and the vivid visions of Azathoth and his demonic offspring, Nyarlathotep, beckoning her ever forward towards Kadath.

Her journey began some time ago (she had lost count of the days as they passed) with a dream. Like any other night, the young, dark haired girl went to bed and slept, expecting the usual sweet dreams her mother wished to her every night and expecting to forget them the next morning. Instead, she had slept herself into a cold and infinite void darker than any moonless night she had ever seen. Her own form was gone. She was reduced to a disembodied consciousness stranded in the endless space.

Then Clair saw a light. It was a long, curved band of light that resembled the crescent moon she saw every month or so. The familiarity was good. In this vast and terrifying darkness, it was not only good to see a light but to see a light that she saw twice a month on restless nights. She tried drifting closer to the light, hoping it could lead her home (She even preferred to encounter the savage moon beast that inhabited it than spend another second in the void), but found she could not move. Her bodiless essence remained fixed in that one spot in infinity. But that mattered little when saw that the light ahead was not the moon but a _planet_.

She stared in awe as the crescent of light grew to its full shape and slowly gained color as it did. There were hues of sandy brown and dark green occasionally blocked from view by scratches of white. The land was as green as grass and trees of Ulthar and the clouds as equally pure. The most stunning thing about this planet, though, was the vast ocean, seeming to cover over half of immense sight. The blue waters sparkled like jewels beneath the warming sun that gave life to this world. However, the beauty quickly ended when the warming light of the sun turned blood red, washing over the glittering planet with a shade of the most ghastly crimson. The green land burned. The seas burned away and became blacked clouds that blanketed the grey surface. The millions of fragile creatures that called that planet their home were vaporized, leaving only their shell-like cities and monuments to mark their place in infinite history. Their dying screams, multiplied a million-fold, echoed through Clair's mind like a hideous bell. She tried to cover her ears but remembered she had no ears, let alone any hands with which to cover them.

Clair waited. The screams continued. "Stop!" she tried to yell, but her voice was silenced by the vacuum.

The screaming ended. Clair couldn't hold back her relief despite the tragedy she just witnessed. As her disembodied consciousness pulsed with an ironic laughter, a new sound broke the void. It was a complex jumble of words, incantations, and a myriad of unearthly noises that threated to tear Clair's mind apart. Beneath the orchestra of clicks, warbles, moans, buzzes, roars, growls, drones, and other unexplainable sounds she heard the faint trace of human speech. At first, they were impossible to understand, but as Clair focused on the human voices, the other ungodly noises drifted away leaving the choir of human beings to their chanting. Nothing the voices said made any sense to Clair, but every indistinguishable letter and syllable stuck to Clair's mind and arranged itself into sentence she would forever remember: _Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn_. Near the end of the hellish choir, the voices droned in unison "Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn!"

Dead silence again. Clair drifted in the void, paralyzed with fear and shock. As the former planet burned before her, Clair struggled to understand what just happened. Eons seemed to pass before the universe began to stir again, prompting Clair out of her state of utter fear. The vast, black canvas of void around her seemed to bend. The stars slowly began to drift from their former places. As she watched the universe warp and disfigure, she felt the presence of other planets that circled around the life-giving star. She sensed a boiling rock-world, enveloped in its own fumes and gases that was the home of many stone-skinned scorpion beast and giant crawling disk. She sensed a world that hugged its parent star and housed a tiny kingdom of hive crawlers; she sensed a red world of octopi that skulked beneath the sands; a world surrounded by vibrant, rainbow rings that were the gods of primitive cat-like creatures; a titan world of mindless balloon-hunters, a blue world of hellish winds that played with the marching trees that lived there; and a world that spun on another axis. She felt this mass spectrum of worlds and creatures dance around her, tranquil and in bliss, until they too suffered the same, bloody fate as the glittering planet. More screaming and more suffering surrounded her. She soon sensed the presence of a final planet: a small, dark, and lonely world that drifted on very edge of the solar system. Its surface was nearly starved of the light and warmth that the other worlds were privileged with. It watched as the whole spectrum of worlds crumbled under the malevolent hands of the unseen entity.

The stars began moving more violently and started swirling around a central point in the void, creating a vortex that engulfed the worlds and their parent star. Out of this pit of destruction and mayhem came a million lights and colors. The screaming ceased, slowly drowned out by the sound of other worldly music. Clair turned to face the chaotic display of lights as they grew and continued to consume the space around her. The music became louder and louder as a new presence began to approach. It was everywhere, a thing so vast that the known universe barely contained it. Within the streams of light and color, Clair began seeing claws and teeth that raved and mauled around her. Her sight involuntarily fell on the chaotic apex as it began to split like a giant pair of eyelids. She saw the colors and forms of the universe circle within the iris of a giant eye as it gazed downward at her. Unimaginable fear struck her as she understood the presence around her.

"Azathoth…" she whispered.

" **CLE'R!** " Azathoth growled, as if in response.

Clair trembled. The universe had plunged within the mad abyss that was Azathoth and there was no escape.

The eye closed again, only to open once more as a mouth filled with a trillion spear-like teeth. The mouth swallowed everything, including Clair, and she was in total darkness again.

"Clair…" She heard a distant whisper.

Clair, now on the brink of madness, searched around desperately for the source of the new voice. Despite the terrifying predicament, the voice was calm and soothing, yet carried a malevolent air. She saw a distant figure, draped in prismatic robes and crowed with a pharaohs pshent.

"come" Nyarlathotep beckoned.

Clair did as she was commanded, but before she reached the specter she awoke in her normal bed in her normal home in normal Ulthar. For a time, she thought the visions were just a dream until they began following her in her waking hours. For sanity's sake, she consulted Atal and he told her the dreams were messages from the gods, telling Clair that they demand her presence. What they could have wanted with a common Ultharian neither of them knew, but Clair knew it would be foolish to deny the gods. Atal gave her a map, pointing to the direction of Kadath, the dark city of the gods, and, after a long and sad farewell to her family, she was off with only her cat to keep her company.

Days later, she found herself sitting upon a rock on the bank of Skai, seeing those nightmarish visions again. She stood against Azathoth and Nyarlathotep again, this time silently waiting for them to vanish so she could move on. Her hand fell on Willow's fur. The soft silky texture reminded her she was still in the material world and still alive. The nightmare ended, leaving Clair disturbed and tired. She glanced at Willow, who stared back and purred.

"We'll be alright. We'll fight through this to the end so I can go home and rest easy as I have before. We will survive." Clair told herself. Her head tilted back. Her eyes sparkled with the billions of strange stars that decorated the dark sky. The moon stood out alongside the ringed worlds of the outer reaches. Her eyes drooped and fluttered. She desperately didn't want to sleep, knowing what awaits her. "I'll survive." She whispered. She fell asleep next to the River Skai as the fireflies glided and illuminated the form of the resting adventurer and her friend.

By the next evening, she reached the edge of the Enchanted Wood. She couldn't see past but a few feet into the tree's as they gave way to the dark, but she was not afraid. "We'll survive." She told herself as well willow. Together, they entered the forest.


	2. Chapter 2

The crunching leaves beneath her boots was the only sound to be heard. The dark green canopy of leaves above blocked most of suns warming light. If it wasn't for the dimly glowing fungi and moon-trees, the forest would be nearly impossible to navigate in its darkness. Clair skimmed the twisted trees around her, searching for any possible sign of life while Willow prowled behind, looking for the same life that would serve him as food.

Clair whistled. Her long, high pitched tune echoed through the wood, becoming a lulling noise. The wood responded with silence.

Within time, Clair came across a humming creek that snaked through twisted stones and blackened dirt. She bowed at its side and partook of the crystalline water it provided. As she sipped, she noticed a small fish out the corner of her eye. It was a baby glowing koi, the same kind that swam beneath the waters of the Skai which this creek undoubtedly branched from. Clair's stomach growled and she resolved to satisfy her hunger. She grabbed the young fish from the water and slammed it against a stone, killing it. Her eyes fell onto Willow's and she decided that her dear friend most likely needed it more. She handed the koi to Willow who greedily consumed the whole thing.

As Willow snacked, Clair began singing the Song of the Skai, which, in her culture, was to be done to show thanks to the god Nodens for the water he provides.

"Oh Nodens, oh Nodens, thy will is so kind.

Give life to the walker with land left behind

And water to quench us, oh Nodens so kind.

We feast and we drink…"

Her singing was cut short with a sudden rustling in some nearby shrubs. She quickly drew her knife and took up her battle stance. Willow arched his back and hissed at the unseen stalker.

"Who lurks?" Clair yelled. Her ears struggled to locate the source of the noise. Nothing was to be seen. There were no moving plants or entities that she could discern. The rapid pitter-patter of tiny feet was heard along with the familiar fluttering tongue. "Zoogs." She whispered.

Out of the darkness, several dozen pairs of red eyes suddenly erupted, but before Clair could say anymore, the horde of tiny, brown, rat-like creatures with large eyes and pointed ears came darting towards her out of the bushes. The Zoogs surrounded Clair on all sides, standing on their hind legs and pointing crude spear and sword like weapons at the intruder.

"I was only passing. I promise." Clair assured. She looked down to see Willow in attack position and picked him up to assure he doesn't kill any Zoogs. "We mean no harm."

The Zoogs looked among each other, whispering in their own language. Out of the crowd, a very large Zoog with artistically shaved fur approached. "Your name?" he asked in broken English.

Clair was dumbstruck. She never heard of a Zoog that spoke the human tongue. "I…uh…" she stuttered.

"Name!" the Zoog yelled.

"Uh…Clair of Ulthar. And this is my cat. I call him Willow." After a brief survey of the Zoog army, Clair continued. "Wha…what is your name."

The Zoog remained silent for a moment, searching the human face for treachery. He turned to speak with a nearby Zoog and shortly turned back to Clair. "I Nik'Onyo, General Zoog. I take you to Elders. They decide. Resist and die." Nik'Onyo turned and signaled his guest/prisoner to follow.

Within time, Clair, Willow, and the army of Zoogs arrived in a small (by human standards) clearing in the forest. Sunlight poured in through the open forest roof, illuminating a ring of crudely carved stones and idols. In the center sat thee elderly Zoogs. They had long, beard-like whiskers that draped to the grass-linen forest floor and were covered in pieces of gold jewelry and draped in tattered crimson cloth. The central elder chirped to Nik'Onyo as he knelt before him.

Nik'Onyo raised his snout to the elder and spoke to him in his own tongue. The elder, seeming to be interested, looked up at Clair as Nik'Onyo spoke. The elder then raised a palm to the Zoog general, silencing him. The elder then pointed to Clair and told his general one last thing, to which he nodded.

Nik'Onyo looked up at Clair. "Elder PaQuaa talk you. I translate."

"Okay, sir." Clair nodded.

Elder PaQuaa chuckled, most likely at the human's good manners, and spoke. As promised, Nik'Onyo translated. "We glad! Welcome young human Clair and young cat Willow! What matter concern Clair?"

"I mean to go to Kadath where the gods are rumored to live. I was merely passing through. I sincerely hope I did not disturb anything." Clair said as Nik'Onyo translated.

"Worry not." PaQuaa laughed. "Pass Wood at will Clair. Tread careful with cat. Dyu'me lurk."

"Dyu'me?" Clair repeated, unsure she pronounced it right.

"Long ago. War between cat and Zoog thwarted by hero Carter."

Clair recognized who the elder was speaking of. She read the stories of him long ago when she was little. Randolph Carter, who descended from another dimension, journeyed through this realm in search of Kadath. He aimed to uncover the fabled "Sunset City" and live there for eternity, but ultimately failed. Along the way, so it was rumored, he stopped a war between an angered clan of Zoogs of the Cats of Ulthar.

PaQuaa continued. "Zoogs learn to live with cat, but some still hate cat. Clan who hate cat separate and become Dyu'me Clan who wish death to cat." PaQuaa pointed at Willow. "Willow in danger. No let Dyu'me kill. We escort."

"Thank you Elder PaQuaa." Clair bowed.

"Stay Clair. You need eat. We make moon-wine and Yugo-stew."

Clair was sincerely honored by the Zoog's hospitality. Never would she have thought the small rodent-creatures to be a civilized and generous race. "I could not thank you enough, your highness." Clair smiled. PaQuaa chuckled in response.

That evening, the Zoogs fed Clair and Willow their finest meals (multiplied ten-fold to accommodate her size). Along with wooden mugs of moon-wine, she dined on soups made from berries and glowing fungi as well as odd pastry things made of gods-know-what. Oddly enough, they tasted like the homemade treats her mother use to make. Along with the food, the duo where treated with a Zoog music performance. About four or five Zoogs, all equipped with strange wind instruments and miniature drums, played the loveliest music until the sun vanished behind the trees.

Clair and Willow soon finished their meals, feeling quite full. They slept under a moon tree in the middle of the Zoog clan that night. Despite the numerous acts of kindness they were shown, Clair still kept a knife at hand. The Zoogs were good, but like humans they were still capable of treachery.

That night, she saw the Demon Sultan again.

The next morning, Clair met with Elder Paquaa for the final time. Nearby, Nik'Onyo was preparing his militia. He organized an army of about two-hundred Zoog's, each armed with a spear and a bow-and-arrow set, to carry on the task of escorting the travelers.

" _Fwithatoma._ " Clair told Paquaa as a sign of appreciation. She had thanked the Zoog elder in his own language to show respect and as a sign that Clair was beginning to learn the Zoog language and culture. It was evident that the Zoog's have evolved quite a bit since the time of Randolph Carter in both social structure and mannerisms. They blended in nearly perfectly with the natural surroundings, but Clair began noticing towers made of finely carved wood and decorated with moss and glowing fungi. The Enchanted Wood had become the city of the Zoogs, and may one day even rival Celephais in beauty. Like humans, Zoogs will always have conflict and wars, but they've become a species that mirror humanity in almost every way, for the bad and the good.

"C…clar…wel…com." Paquaa began stuttering human dialect, prompting Clair to smile. Clair offered the elder her index finder, and Paquaa gladly shook it with his tiny paw. Suddenly, Clair heard something zip past her. The nearly inaudible sound lasted only a third of a second, but was enough to make Clair skim the area around her. For a moment, she thought she heard a bug until she looked down at Paquaa and saw that he was impaled through the chest with a Zoog-sized arrow. The Elder gazed at his chest in horror. Blood pooled around him and began dripping down the rock on which he sat.

"Paquaa!" Clair yelled as she reached for the Elder to keep him from falling.

"CAT!" Clair heard the high-pitched cry of a Zoog behind her. She turned to see an army of Zoogs (much larger than the one Nik'Onyo assembled) standing in the tree branches above. The most predominate one stood on a low hanging branch just nine meters behind Clair. He was much taller than a normal zoog and had long, spiky fur that was nearly black. In his paws, he held an empty bow and a stone blade. His large, red eyes looked directly at Willow who arched his back and hissed at the Zoog assailant. "Theyza-mo-gha! Weif-en yon! KILL THE CAT!" He yelled to his soldiers.

Upon his orders, Zoog soldiers rained down from the branches. Clair grabbed Willow and turned her back to the Zoog assault as Nik'Onyo's militia moved in to attack. Enemy arches fired a volley of arrows upon Clair as she ran. Numerous arrows, too small to inflict real damage, pierced Clair's back and made her stumble forward. Nik'Onyo and several ally Zoogs ran over to Clair an attempted to help her, but she stood before they could.

"What's happening?" Clair asked frantically as she checked to see if Willow was injured. Thankfully he wasn't.

"Dyu'me," Nik"Onyo said grimly. "You run, Clair. Leave forest now."

Clair looked back at the bloody battle that unfolded. Numerous Zoogs now lay dead on the forest floor as the Dyu'me and ally Zoogs continued to fight with stone weapons. Not far from the battle, a group of soldiers were carrying away Paquaa's body as the two minor Elders followed. In the wood towers, ally archers fired arrows from the windows as more Zoog soldiers ran from the openings below. "What about Paquaa?" Clair asked.

"Dead. Move now!" Nik"Onyo yelled. With a final glance at the battlefield, Clair ran. It wasn't long, however, before she was stopped by the Dyu'me leader and several other Dyu'me. The leader readied one more arrow and aimed it directly at Willow's forehead.

"Die cat." The Leader growled, but as he fired, Willow launched himself out of Clair's arms. The recoil forced Clair backwards, thus avoiding the incoming arrow. Willow handed hard atop a Dyu'me, killing it instantly. He then quickly proceeded to pounce the other Zoogs, locking them in his jaws or dismembering them with his claws. Within seconds, the entire group was dead save for the Leader, leaving him with the blood-covered cat. The fearless Zoog then leveled his blade at Willow and charged. Willow hissed and leaped out of the way of the incoming Zoog. Before the Leader could turn again, Willow had already swiped his claws across the Leaders chest, forcing blood out of the Zoog. Willow swiped again, this time across the Zoog's face, removing an eye as he did so. The Dyu'me leader fell to the dirt, defeated and covered in blood, but Willow was not done yet. He opened his jaws and bit down on the Zoogs neck. The Zoog cried out in pain as Willow shook him violently and eventually dropped him. The Dyu'me leader lied dead and mangled at Willow's paws. Clair was speechless. She had never seen Willow, let alone any cat, act so violently. It's like her mother use to say: "Cats are mysterious creatures."

Clair considered for a moment returning to the battlefield, but not only would Nik'Onyo not allow that, but doing so would endanger Willow even more. She felt bad leaving the Zoogs in such disarray, but she had a purpose. She closed her eyes and saw Nyarlathotep again behind her eye lids, beckoning her ever forward. When Clair opened her eyes again, she looked down at Willow. The bloody cat looked up at the human girl with wide eyes and a gently swaying tail as if he was still innocent.

"Let's leave. We have a long journey ahead of us." Clair said as she walked forward with Willow trotting at her heels. They travelled through silent woods the rest of the day, encountering no more Zoogs. That night, they reached the other edge of the forest.


	3. Chapter 3

Clair cringed at the blinding sunlight as she walked out of the dark forest. As she blocked out the sun with her arm, she rapidly blinked her eyes in attempt to readjust them. Being blinded by the sun, to her, was an oddly humorous sign that she was in the forest for far too long. Within time, vision returned to her and she quickly made out the expanse of green hills before her. Aside from a few boulders and a lone oak tree, there was nothing else to be seen.

"Gods damn it. I hope I'm not lost." She muttered to herself in frustration. Willow meowed as if he knew what she was talking about. She then drew out the map Atal gave her and spent a long five minutes reading it. If they remained on the path they were supposed to take, then the River Skai should be visible, but it wasn't. The thought of being stranded in gods-know-where was disheartening, but quickly dissipated when she examined the suns position and discovered she was still going North-East like map indicated. Logically, the hills must be hiding the Skai somewhere.

Clair surmounted the nearest hill and began scanning the uneven horizon. She caught a glimpse of a shimmer in the distance. She squinted and could faintly see the gentle waters of the river. She smiled and pointed towards the Skai. "That way." She said as if there were other English-speakers with her.

Three hours later, she stood on the bank of the Skai again. She had not realized how exhausted and dehydrated she was until she began swallowing handfuls of water as Willow began drinking as well. As she moved about, the pain running up her back made her remember that she had been pierced with several tiny arrows. She reached back, grabbed a few, and slowly pulled them out. The brief burst of pain forced a scream out of her, spooking Willow and a few glowing-koi nearby. She looked at the bunch of bloody arrows in her hand and figured they went no deeper than a centimeter and a half, which was good. She tossed the arrows in the water and watched them drift away with the current, happy that that chapter of her quest was over. She then pulled out the rest, screaming in pain as she did so and throwing them out likewise.

After cleaning her wounds and scrubbing the blood out of Willow's fur, she took a short nap. When she awoke, the sun was in the 4:00 position. She thought it would be best if she continued moving before it gets dark, so Clair and Willow continued walking along the Skai as she had done a couple of days prior.

Nightfall had come and the river was aglow with a school of glowing-koi and fireflies. By the light, she consulted the map. It was hardly bright enough to actually read, but she had become familiar with the faint images and symbols enough to get the gist. The map indicated that the port city of Thran was nearby. If she simply followed the river then it would take her right to its gates.

A disturbing thought crossed Clair's mind as she walked. She was tormented by the Demon Sultan and his son, but her childish naivety was still intact. She thought the journey could be a fun and harmless one, much like Carter's Dream-Quest, but she was quickly proven wrong during the Zoog's battle. Willow had almost died there and Clair could have been gravely injured. Not to mention they had blood on their hands now. It could have been worse, she knew that, but obviously, it went wrong. What if she comes across something worse? What if instead of coming across warring Zoogs, they came across warring Gugs…or worse! Reality had finally set in and Clair realized that her and her cat were in serious danger, and that, of all places, she was going to KADATH! Most would undoubtedly call her a fool for embarking on this journey.

 _…come…_

She heard Nyarlathotep once more. She hoped, for her sanities sake, this quest wasn't for nothing. For a second she considered…

Clair looked down at Willow, the cat she had loved and cared for all her life. She has to be there for him - or him for her - no matter what. "No. Death is not an option." She whispered. "We'll survive."

Another hour passed and Clair began seeing a faint light across the horizon. She pondered what it could have been for a moment, but realized she was an idiot for not knowing any sooner. She quickly climbed another hill, Willow darting behind her in attempt to keep up. When she reached the top, she froze. Her eyes widened and jaw slackened as she beheld the distant lights of Thran standing out against the night sky like jewels. It's Spires and towers sat perfectly on the now flat horizon like a crown and, as promised, the Skai flowed directly into it.

She stood mesmerized for uncounted moments before a non-Thran related thought passed through her head. _I think it's time for me to get some sleep_. She thought as her head craned upwards towards the gibbous moon. She quickly found a soft patch of grass and almost instantly fell asleep in it. Willow curled up by her side.

Needless to say, Nyarlathotep and Azathoth were there.


	4. Chapter 4

As the day passed, the towers of Thran gradually grew closer and closer until Clair could faintly see the spiral windows and the decorative runes and patterns on the walls, however she was still four or five kilometers from the gates. She assumed she would reach them by midnight if she went without sleep, but till then, the farms and small villages along Thran's outskirts kept her company. Along the cobblestone road she followed, there were numerous cottages and cabins housing elderly folk. Most seemed indifferent to Clair's visit, but many welcomed her with a warming smile. The villages were also pleasant with numerous gaily painted houses shrouded in thick gardens. Roses and sunflowers filled the air with a sweet scent and a mild breeze carried it across the whole town. If Thran was any more wonderful than these villages, she could end up completely forgetting her journey.

The beauty and wonder was so great, Clair had completely neglected her groaning stomach. The thought of her being hungry did not pass her mind until she smelled roasting pork. She followed the mouthwatering scent until she was at the door of the local butcher. Without hesitation, she stepped through the door. The place was completely empty. Behind the clerk-less counter, she could see the stock room where multiple slabs of beef and whole pigs hung. She rung she service bell once and waited a minute before speaking. "Hello? I wish to buy something! Is there anybody here?"

No response.

She rung the bell again. "Hello?"

Still no response.

She instantly lost patience and left. As soon as she stepped outside she caught the scent of pork again. It was obviously coming from the butchers, yet there was nobody here. She decided to search around the backside of the building and found a lit grill with whole sides of ribs roasting on top. She looked around to see if anybody was around, but she saw no one, just a grill and some freshly cooked food. Her stomach growled again and she briefly thought about stealing the ribs, but old Dalia had taught her better. If you want something, ask.

"If there's anybody here, say something." She yelled.

No response.

"Say nothing if you are okay with me taking these ribs."

No response. Great!

Snickering to herself, she quickly pulled off a rib for herself and smaller piece of meat for Willow.

"Mighty hungry ye are to steal a man's meal." A strange, deep voice said.

Clair yelped in surprise, almost dropping her rib in the process. She turned to see a large, potbellied black man wearing a butcher's apron. He had a balding head and a thick, grey beard.

"I'm so sorry sir!" She frantically apologized. "I was just so hungry and there was no one at the store and…"

"Tis alright me lass." The butcher chuckled, holding up his palms. "I said nothing, so you can sample the ribs."

Clair paused for moment, remembering what she said earlier. "Oh yeah. That's right,"

"Ye can have some of the smoked ribs fer free, but if you want fresh meat you have pay fer it." The butcher said.

"Oh, of course." She resumed eating her rib. "How much?"

"Varies per cut. I'll show ye the inventory me self." As he began walking, he turned one more. "By the way, my apologies for not being at the counter earlier." He patted his oversized belly and chuckled. "I'm a wee bit slow."

Shortly, Clair and Willow were back in the store and the butcher was behind the counter looking through the hanging slabs of meat. "So, what will ye have, my lass?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the meat.

"Do you have any more pork ribs?" Clair asked, hardly able to contain her excitement.

"In fact, I do! That will be three silvers if ye have it."

As Clair shuffled around her bag looking for the coins her mother gave her, the butcher unhooked a two-foot slab of ribs and put it on the counter between them. Clair drop three silver coins on the counter next to the ribs.

"Fer a pence extra, I can wrap it up in rice-paper." The butcher said with a faint amount of pride in his voice.

"Rice-paper?" Clair asked. Willow meowed for no apparent reason.

"It's paper that ye wrap around fresh cut meats. It keeps it fresh fer a couple days. I know not how it works, but I tell ye, it works. Been usin' it since the minds at Thran invented it a couple years past."

"Okay." Clair said, laying an extra penny on the counter.

"Great!" the butcher said as he picked up the slab. "I'll have it ready in just a moment."

Before long, Clair was on the road again with a slab of ribs strapped to her bag. She knew it would be another day before she reached Thran, but with this much extra food, she was far from worried. It passed her mind that she would need a fire to roast it though. She rehearsed in her head how to make a fire by using twigs and rocks, but quickly forgot about it when she came across a general store. She thought for a moment, then looked down into her bag. She still had ten silvers, three golds, and about two handfuls of bronze.

"This place is going to spoil me." She giggled as she walked into the general store. Three of the four walls were packed with shelves containing numerous things of varying purposes: Clothes, paper, dining ware, toys, snacks, meds, everything. The counter, which was lined with several jars containing different things, was on the back wall. Behind the counter stood an old woman who welcomed Clair with a slow and quiet voice. "Welcome, young lady. Take your time, dear."

Clair barely spent thirty seconds looking before she grabbed a box of matches and laid it on the counter.

"Will that be all?" The old woman wheezed.

"Yes ma'am." Clair nodded.

As the old woman slowly read the price tag, Clair's eye's fell on a stack of wooden cups engraved with the Elder Sign. Can never have too much protection, she though, even when drinking.

"Actually, ma'am, I would also like one of these cups as well." Clair said as she grabbed one.

"Very well." The woman wheezed as she began removing the price tag.

Clair then noticed Willow pawing at a dangling cat toy on a nearby shelf. Without much though, she walked over to where Willow was sitting and grabbed the feather-lined toy. She set it on the counter between her and the old woman and said, "I would also like to buy this cat toy."

The old woman sighed and complied.

Clair then noticed a wicker basket full of ground up medicinal herb. She thought it would be a wise idea to have that around in case the pain from her injuries spiked again. She grabbed a handful, put it in a complimentary paper baglet, and set it on the counter. "May I also…" she began before the woman interrupted.

"Yes dearie, I know." After glancing at the price tags and removing them, she turned to Clair and asked, "Will that be all?" hoping to the gods that it will be.

Clair remained silent for a few seconds, gazing at the old woman. After feeling the tension, she looked around the store, then back at the woman, and shrugged.

The old woman nodded. "That will be two silvers, dear. Would you like to open a tab?"

Clair shook her head. "No ma'am. I am not from here, so opening tab would be quite pointless." She set two silver coins on the counter and said, "I'll just pay and leave."

A moment later she was walking towards the gates of Thran again with matches, a new cup, a cat toy (which Willow was obsessed with), medical weed, and two silvers short. The sun began slowly setting on the horizon, casting its red glow on the glistening towers ahead. In the red light, she could see the Skai flowing past the outer wall of Thran. A small port filled the space between the two. She realized she would need to rest soon, but there wasn't an inn within sight. It was sad, really. This place had already spoiled her with high-grade food, convenience, medicine, scenery, yet couldn't seem to provide a bed, which was the one thing Clair had missed the most.

"Well I suppose you can't ask for everything." She sighed before being silenced by the sound of incoming horses. She turned and saw a horse drawn cab coming her way. It was obviously not a cheap wood-and-paint cab drawn by half-starved horses. It was a premium cab adorned with silver statuettes and artistic engravings. The wheels were made of rust-free metal and it was drawn by a duo of the most majestic and healthy looking black stallions she ever seen.

She flagged the cab down and it stopped in front of her. "What do you need kid?" the well-dressed driver asked.

"Is this a public cab?" Clair asked.

"It is," the driver said. "but it's damn expensive. I'm not sure your parents would be okay spending what little they have on this high-end ride of the kings."

Clair could break the man's jaw for all the off-putting things he just said, but she decided to only focus on one. "My parents aren't here right now, I'll have you know. They're back home."

"In Ulthar?!" the driver exclaimed.

"Yes, in Ulthar…wait, how did you know where I was from?"

"For one thing, you're travelling with a cat. Another, you're wearing traditional Ultharian garments. You stick out like a sore thumb for heaven's sake! By the way, what the bloody hell is a fourteen-year-old girl doing so far from home? I'm almost certain you had to go through the Zoog's Woods to get here, and that, on Its own is dangerous."

"Indeed, I have." Clair crossed her arms. "If I made it this far without dying I'm sure I can reach Kadath." Clair knew she was probably wrong.

The driver threw his head back in laughter. "I'm not taking you to Kadath, child! That place doesn't even exist!"

Clair looked up at the laughing driver with irritated eyes. "I'm not asking you to take me to Kadath idiot, I'm asking you to take me to Thran's gate."

"Whatever, kid." The driver said, rubbing the bridge of his nose and trying to get his last laugh out. "The ride cost three golds."

Clair handed the driver her remaining gold coins and crawled onto the velvet bench in the back.


	5. Chapter 5

The cab stopped before the garden pathway that led directly to the gates of Thran. As she stepped out, she saw a well-kept cobblestone road, illuminated in the dark by oil lanterns, winding into a dense forest of blooming shrubs and a variety of exotic trees, many of which Clair could not identify. Just over the top of the mass of leaves, she could see the glittering lights of her destination. Willow leaped out of the cab as it pulled away and proceeded down the path without his human. After Clair finished taking in the sight, she followed her cat down the stone path. As she walked, Clair examined her map once more. Her plan was to board the ship bound for Inganok at the Thran Port (but not before sightseeing). From Inganok, according the map, it will be a hellish trip across the mountains of Leng, but lest she completes the journey, she'll be forever haunted by Nyarlathotep, so she had little choice in the matter anyways.

Near the end of the trail, they came across an arched, stone bridge above a pond surrounded by luminous blue roses and giant dragonflies (that looked a little like actual dragons). They walked across the massive bridge and stopped when they reached the apex. Ahead of her was a large field. On the far side was the massive outer wall of Thran, covered in intricate carvings depicting gods and other creatures. The carvings, primarily the eyes of which, glowed with red torches, making the wall stand out in the surrounding darkness. The spires behind the wall were clearer now than ever as Clair beheld the metallic titans. The thousands of lighted windows illuminated the shining surfaces of the towers with colors from all over the spectrum. Unseen lights from the streets below gave the wall a thin halo that silhouetted the numerous flags and sentinels on top of the wall.

Clair slowly crept out of the dark garden forest, stunned with the unimaginable beauty of Thran, and continued down the path towards the wall.

Where the path finally met the wall, there was a large gate. Its frame was decorated to resemble a large, lion-like dragon with glowing glass eyes. Guarding the gate was a pair of soldiers draped in red cloth carrying spears and new weapon-devises that the sages of Ulthar called "guns."

The excitement building up inside her was unbearable. Needless to say, the girl from Ulthar has never stepped foot in "the big city", let alone actually see. At the wonders that awaited behind the glowing wall Clair could only guess. She hated the journey she was forced to go on, but she could at least enjoy herself while she was out. Whatever it was that the Crawling Chaos wanted out of her, it could wait.

"Halt!" One of the soldiers commanded as Clair and Willow approached. "To enter this city, traveler, you must regale us with three dreams beyond human imagining."

Clair looked at the hooded soldiers in surprise, shifting her eyes back and forth between the two. She simply shrugged and said, "I would rather not." As if it were an option.

"You must," the soldier continued, "Or else you must turn away now and leave."

"Look, I just want to board the ship bound for Inganok." She said as she raised her palms. "That is all."

"Three dreams, traveler."

Clair sighed. She really didn't want to recount the nightmare that was the genesis of her journey, but it seemed as if she had no choice. She rubbed her chin, thinking of a good way to start. "Okay." She began. "In one dream, I was in space and I saw the destruction of a planet, as I presume it was. Everybody and everything died; the sun turned red; nearby planets were ruined…" she paused. The two soldiers, who seemed mildly interested, looked at one another then back at Clair. "There was singing a-and chanting or something of the sort. Space became a v-vortex, much like water in a drain, but with…uh…colors and lights." Clair began stuttering more and more, knowing her unorganized description didn't even come close to carrying the same horror she felt during that dream. As she reached the climax, she paused again. She was dreadfully nervous to say the name "Azathoth" aloud. As sophisticated as the people of Thran seemed to be, even they would cower at the Sultan's mention, but in the end, she had something she needed to do. Undoubtedly, a visitation from Azathoth _and_ Nyarlathotep would count as a "dream beyond human imagining", so she finally resolved to tell the final part and proceed. "A-and then I met…"

Before she could finish, the soldier, obviously fed up with Clair's poor dream-telling skills, said "Hold your words traveler. Are you not a Dreamer?"

Clair had no idea how to respond to such a question. If a person could dream, would that not made him or her a dreamer? It passed Clair's mind that the guards were making fun of her, but they sounded far too serious in their questioning. "I…guess." Clair shrugged. "I dream at night like most people, don't I?"

One soldier chuckled a little as the other shook his head in disappointment before asking "Do you wish for me to explain what a Dreamer is, traveler."

Clair was starting to become a little angry. She was completely lost and, to make it worse, the guards seemed to talk to her like she was a halfwit. She pinched the space between her eyes and sighed. "Explain." She groaned as she gestured the guard to continue.

"A Dreamer is an entity that hails from one of the outer spheres, or "dimensions", as the Minds like to call them. They are said to be beings whose minds are free and completely without limit. This would allow them to access our realm during their sleeping hours, but only their mind could pass for it is the mind that truly matters in terms of the vast universe and the sphere in which it swims. If a mortal Dreamer where to die, then his mind and soul would forever live in the Dream Realm relative to their own. The great King Kuranes in Celephais and Randolph Carter the hero are two examples you have surely heard of. This city, the towers and temples of Thran, are reserved for Dreamers, dead and living. You, child, are obviously not a Dreamer, so you are not allowed within Thran's walls." The soldier then pointed his spear in the direction Clair came from and barked "I believe you know where your place is."

Clair could hardly believe what she had just heard. So much anticipation and so much joy in the thought of walking Thran's streets just to have it shattered in an instance. Where she was to go now, she had no idea, but Nyarlathotep would not let her quit her journey. She had to find another way to Inganok, but for now, the stars ahead beckoned her to her meaningless dream-world. With low and almost watery eyes she turned from the red-draped soldiers and walked away with Willow at her heels.

Later that night, she found herself camping at the edge of a nearby forest, still sad and disheartened by her rejection. A fire burned before her, slowly cooking the ribs she bought earlier as they hung from a makeshift spit. She looked around her. Night had drowned out everything except the celestial dome above and the taunting lights of Thran. She stared at the glowing towers for some time, sadly thinking about what could have been. Crickets and cicadas sang their song as the wind gently rustled the leaves of the forest. The fire cast its eerie orange glow around her as it flickered. The smell of roasting pork filled the air and she was brought back to the moment she discovered the butchers grill. Now she had her own meal, complete with a cup of river water and a warm fire. She looked down at Willow who peacefully slept at her side and her depression eased at the sight of him. She looked around once more at the star littered sky, the vibrant campfire and distant lights of Thran. Now that she had a chance to see it up close, she realized that Thran was far more beautiful from a distance. She smelled the pork again and listened once more to the nightly song of the forest. Experiencing these things made her realize that she was glad she missed out on Thran. She would have missed this lovely experience aside a healthy fire and a friendly forest before setting off to the dusty North.

She enjoyed her dinner and fell asleep moments later.

The nightmare recurred, but this time she came face to face with the shadow of Nyarlathotep. She spoke with the living darkness and he promised her "The fun will soon end."


	6. Chapter 6

Days after leaving Thran, Clair found herself walking through another forest, though this one was not as dense (or as dangerous) as the Enchanted Wood. She had very little idea as to where she was. However, she did know she was somewhere in the "Tlo-Klo" forest between Thran and the Eastern coast of the Cerenarian Sea. She looked upward at the sun and read that she was still travelling Northeast, which was where she thought she needed to be going.

She eventually decided to take advantage of the still air and warming sunlight and take a short break. She sat underneath a large oak tree with Willow curled up on her lap and snacked on whatever was left of her ribs. When she was done with that, she began skimming her map, looking for an alternate route to take since the Thran seaport was no longer an option. She skimmed the various images and symbols around the area marked "Tlo-Klo", eventually leading her eye to the Eastern shores. She noticed several colonies and towns, but none seemed to house any sort of harbor. She then noticed a small and seemingly insignificant image of a galley just off the coast facing towards the region of Ooth-Nargai on the opposite side of the Cerenarian. From what she could tell, the galley, which was marked simply as "the White Ship", was about thirty or so kilometers from the nearest edge of the Tlo-Klo forest. Unless she wasn't mistaking the "White Ship" for a useless doodle, it seemed as if it could take her straight to Celephais, the grand capitol of Ooth-Nargai and the hub for all trade and interregional travel. If she could reach Celephais, she would without a doubt find a way to Inganok. With any luck, the White Ship could take her straight to Inganok instead. She folded the map, put it away and rudely awoke Willow. They continued Northeast towards the docks of the supposed "White Ship".

Days passed and Clair soon caught the scent of sea water. She inquisitively followed the smell, hoping to the gods she wasn't being deceived. Her fears were soon alleviated when she heard the gentle hum of crashing waves in the distance. With one last prayer, she charged out of the forest and beheld the sparkling horizon of the Cerenarian past a series of mild hills. She ran towards the roaring coast, laughing like a young child. She stopped at the water's edge and took in the endless expanse of ocean before her. It was her first time ever seeing the ocean. Although she had drifted in the unimaginable void outside of her home sphere and looked Azathoth in the eye, the vastness and grandeur of a simple body of water was enough to completely captivate the girl. She continued Northward along she shore with Willow at her heels, all the while enjoying the visage of the Cerenarian.

She followed the shore for a few days, occasionally stopping to catch and snack on the exotic fish it provided. She tried drinking sea water in her thirst, but found it dehydrated her far more than it refreshed. Of all the wonderful things, she had seen and heard of the sea, she never would have guessed it tasted so fowl. Luckily, though, she found a small pond not far from the shore and both the human and cat greedily partook of it. For those days, she marched along with glee as Willow followed, quiet but just as happy as his human.

The quest got off to a rocky start (no thanks to the Dyu'me), but overall it seemed to have gone well. She met nice farming folk, seen the lights of Thran, ate some rather badass ribs, seen the ocean, enjoyed the entirety of nature, and, above all, she was still alive. She was sure she would have died by now. For the moment, life seemed wonderful and the puppet strings attached to her and guided by Nyarlathotep seemed distant and unimportant. The quest was distant now and all that mattered was the moment. Was it simple naivety? Maybe, but as she marched towards what was possibly her doom, she felt more comfortable with dying, and that made all the difference.

After a night of sleeping on the beach, still plagued by the visions, she awoke early to a light nibbling on her nose. She slowly opened her crusty eyes to see Willow lightly biting her. Odd. It was very unlike Willow to wake up so early or even wake up Clair as early. She wasn't concerned. After knowing Willow since birth, she knew that if the situation was urgent, Willow would scratch her instead. Thank the gods he didn't.

"Willow, not now." She said with a groggy voice as she halfheartedly patted her cat. "Let me sleep in for a little, and we'll start moving soon, okay?"

Willow let out an irritated "meow" and quickly turned to gaze at something off shore before nipping Clair again. Willow was obviously wanting Clair to look at something. She let out a sigh as she complied with her cat. She slowly sat up, hearing a few of her joints pop as she did so. When her vision completely came to, she saw something rather bizarre. Miles away, but clear as day, there was a large object hovering above the clouds. It was black against the rising sun behind it and the edges were obscured by clouds, giving it a ghostly image. She could faintly see spike or spire like projections on the top and bottom of it. Streaming from the underside were faint, trails of something that fell all the way to the ocean below. As Clair strained her eyes, she could see that the streams were actually waterfalls coming from the floating mass. A revelation came to her as she decided to consult the map. She searched the mostly bank area that represented the Cerenarian and noticed a small but intricate drawing of a city that apparently floated over the sea. She could hardly believe it. She heard the tales during her childhood, but hardly ever gave any credence to it, yet here it was, right in front of her. She was looking at Serannian, the pink marble city of the clouds!

In uncontrollable excitement, Clair wadded into the ocean in a futile attempt to get a closer look at the city of the sky, not stopping till she was waist deep in water. There was no telling how far away Serannian was; from Clair's perspective it looked like a tiny dark-red smudge in the sky, but it was undoubtedly as large as Thran, maybe even bigger.

After a minute or so of admiring Serannian's distant magnificence, she returned to shore, sat down, and admired the city some more. The rising sunlight behind it reflected off its surfaces, creating faint glimmers that showed its vibrant pink color.

"One day," Clair said wistfully "We'll go there. Perhaps we'll see it up close during our voyage." Willow leaped into Clair's lap as she spoke, lightly purring and rubbing against her arm. She quickly got the point and began petting her cat. Willows tail gently swayed as his eyes looked upwards at his human friend. Clair looked at her friend's eyes and smiled. "We'll go there together." She said. _Before the gods have us_.

Clair wasn't exactly sure how long she sat and watched Serannian slowly drift across the sky, but at some point, she was forced back into reality by the voice of Nyarlathotep.

 _Now, now Clair,_ he hissed inside her head. _You must not get distracted._ _You have somewhere you need to be, remember? I believe it would be wise to keep moving._

"I believe I deserve a little rest! Don't pester me!" Clair yelled, realizing too late the mistake she made in talking back to a god. Suddenly, a violent pain exploded through her head, as if every nerve in her skull was being pulled and jerked about. She grabbed her temples and screamed in agony as the unseen hand of the Crawling Chaos crushed her. Willow laid a concerned paw on Clair's trembling back as he began feeling Nyarlathotep's otherworldly presence. He arched his back and hissed, frantically looking for the invisible assailant.

 _DO NOT DEFY ME, YOU FUCKING BRAT!_ The dark god roared _YOUR WORTHLESS EXISTENCE IS DEDICATED TO SERVING ME! FORGET THAT AND YOU WILL SPEND ETERNITY IN THE MOST AGONISING PITS OF CHAOS AND MISERY! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?_

"Yes" Clair screamed as tears gushed from her eyes. She curled up in the sand, clawing at her scalp in desperation.

 _Good._ Nyarlathotep purred as he released his grip on Clair.

Clair took deep breaths, waiting for Nyarlathotep's next move, but thakfully he had left. She sat up and wiped away whatever tears were left. Willow sat against her arm, comforting her and trying to bring her out of her traumatic state. Clair stood, prompting Willow to do the same.

"Come on. We have to go." Clair sobbed before continuing down the beach with Willow following.

By noon that same day, Clair found herself in another grassy field running parallel to the beach. The flowers swayed and the bees hummed, but Clair couldn't shake what Nyarlathotep did. She thought about now most would scoff at her ignorance; at her inability to foresee what she was getting into. Mental and physical torture was to be expected when dealing with a god made of pure evil. Most would walk away laughing knowing that getting a brief, albeit agonizing, headache was a form of mercy, but Clair, despite what she's seen, refused to see it that way, as if her childish mind believed it could not get much worse (or perhaps she believed she didn't have to feel Nyarlatotep's wrath). She understood her quest more than ever now. To say that the quest was "dangerous" or a guaranteed "deathtrap" was a strong understatement. She was being beckoned forward by the Crawling Chaos, the very offspring of the chaotic and unfathomable universe itself. Only the gods know what she will soon face. She knew that that death wasn't an option. Nyarlathotep wanted her alive and he was going to have her alive, and Clair could do nothing more than obediently follow.

Her pondering set off a twinge in the back of her mind. She wondered if this is how madness starts. Elder priest have stared the gods in the eyes before and their minds shattered, so what would happen when Clair finally sees Nyarlathotep?

"I don't think I can take this anymore." She groaned, finally understanding what it feels like to be a clueless ant left in the dark.

Suddenly, she felt her leg quickly drop into a small hole in the ground and she collapsed. She feared for a brief second that it was broken, but with no pain or limpness, she was able to breath easily. Her leg, however, was still stuck hip deep in the ground. She moved her trapped foot around and discovered that she hasn't reached the bottom when she could feel no solid surface. With a silent gasp, the thought of how deep the hole could potentially be and pushed away the worst-case scenario when it came to mind. However, she laughed off the incident and attempted to pull herself out, but the ground around her buckled inward with a low rumble. She yelped in surprise and froze. After a few deep breaths, she tried again, but the ground gave in underneath her and collapsed into a dark chasm below. Before gravity could take her, she grabbed the edge of the new and larger hole. Her hands locked firmly around the clumps of grass and roots, holding on for dear life. She screamed as she looked down at the darkness, then quickly looked up at Willow, who was safely on the hole's edge. Willow whined and moved around frantically, thinking of a way to save Clair. Clair could feel her grip slipping. She struggled to pull herself up, but didn't have the strength As she dangled, Willow locked his jaws around Clair's sleeve and pulled in a futile attempt to save her.

"No! Willow, don't!" Clair cried. "You have to go! Its too dangero…" Before she could finish, her grip failed, pulling Willow with her as she plummeted. The last thing she remembered was grabbing Willow in midair and holding him tightly to her chest as they fell.


	7. Chapter 7

Darkness was everywhere. Pain was all Clair could feel. She could barely move, but with every heave of breath or slightest twitch, a torturous shock permeated her entire body. Her thoughts were slow and drowsy. She couldn't hear anything and she didn't have the strength to open her eyes.

One hand slowly loosened as she slowly clenched it, fighting through the pain it sent. She patted the ground around her and struggled to make sense of what she felt. She was apparently lying on some sort of soft, fleshy material covered in a thick, warm fluid. With her thoughts still clouded over, she came to the worst conclusion.

"Oh gods…I'm bleeding…" She whimpered. Her undulating tongue and throat sent fresh burst of pain through her head. She lifted the hand she was using (grateful that it wasn't broken) and rolled the fluid over her finger tips. She was wrong. It had the viscosity of syrup and smelled indescribably worse. It wasn't blood, or at least, not hers. She found the strength to move her arm some more, and managed to lay a goo-covered hand on the furry ball that sat on her chest.

 _Please, please let Willow be alive._ She prayed. Her fears were put to rest when she felt the slightest movement of Willow's breathing. "Thank the gods." She whispered. Willow, only half awake at this point, mewed softly.

Clair slowly opened her eyes, nearly terrified of what could be within sight, however all she saw was more darkness, split only by the hole she had fallen through, visible as a small, blue ellipsoid far above. Her eyes shifted to the sleeping cat on top of her and was relieved to see that he was unharmed.

She took a deep breath, held it, and hauled her pain stricken mass upward, catching Willow as he tumbled. With every audible pop of her bones, a violent burst of pain shot through her. After setting the still sleeping Willow on the muck covered ground, she moved and flexed her stiff limbs about and knew that they were not broken, despite being in a near agonizing pain. She looked around. In almost every direction absolutely nothing was visible save for the hole above and the small area around her that was illuminated by the light the hole provided. She looked down at the ground she had woken up on and was horrified to see that she was lying on some sort of dead and mangled creature with a vague humanoid indentation in its slushy, bleach-white flesh. All over its worm-like mass were tears and fractures that oozed dark green blood. She quickly examined her coat and trousers and noticed that some the blood and bits of flesh had stuck to her.

 _Poor brute must have broken my fall_. She thought almost apologetically.

She looked around the dead creature (which might have been a d'hole, but no one has ever seen one in daylight, so it was impossible to tell) and noticed that the cavern floor was littered with crumbling bones and skulls (some human, but most not) that leered at her with empty eye sockets. She knelt before a curious looking skull and moved it. She removed more bones from the ground and proceeded to dig, but discovered that the "bone layer" was far deeper than she thought.

"By Nodens," she gasped. "This whole cavern must be full of bones!" She moved her feet, hearing the ghoulish relics crack beneath her. Under normal circumstances, she would be quite disturbed walking through a sea of bones, but waking up in the Underworld on top of a d'hole after falling gods know how many hundreds of feet must have done in her fear. However, they were still faced with the fact that they were trapped. She could wait and die or journey into the darkness and _hope_ she'll find a way out.

Her uncle use to make ironic jokes about having a bad day, usually asking "Good day, huh?" when he knew damn well it wasn't. She used to just chuckle and accept the harmless fun, but Clair felt like she could stab the son of a bitch who asked her an eat shit question like "Good day, huh?" in a time like now. To say she was having "a bad day" was a repulsive understatement.

Willow awoke with an agitated growl, catching Clair's attention. She turned to see her cat slowly and painfully standing up. Like her, he was also covered in d,hole blood. Clair smiled and knelt by Willow, rubbing her hand through his sticky fur. Willow glared at his human friend with worried eyes, spontaneously jumped at her, planting his front paws at the base of her neck and began licking her chin with his sandpaper tongue.

"I'm glad you're alive too, Willow." Clair said with a half-hearted laugh.

When the moment passed, Clair began thinking about their predicament. The first thing they needed, evidently, was light. She thought hard about how to make a fire or some sort of torch; something a little more sufficient than a box of matches. There was no wood and no kindling. She figured she could just stumble around in the dark until she bumped into something like Carter did, but with the Underworld undoubtedly swarming with bloodthirsty beast like d'holes and ghouls, doing such a thing would be rather idiotic. Light would provide a mobile haven against the myriad of light-sensitive monsters.

The thoughts of fire were briefly pushed out her head by a considerably more pressing mater: food. It didn't take very long for Clair to figure out where her protein would come from, though. She glanced back at the slimy d,hole carcass and shuddered. She brought her blood covered hand beneath her nose and cringed at the smell.

 _Awful_ , she thought, _but tolerable_.

She unsheathed her knife and began carving out a piece of the d'hole's flesh. The slick, goo covered chunks of meat felt like a dead itozu snail covered in pig fat in her hand and smelled far worse, but she reluctantly braved it and put a small strip of it in her mouth. The taste was horrible beyond description. She gagged and nearly vomited as she felt it slither down her throat.

When the taste was, for the most part, gone, she waited.

… …

It hadn't killed her or made her vomit her entrails, so at least she had that. Willow, however, seemed unbothered eating the dead d'hole. Like his feral cousins, he clawed and gnawed at the mangled flesh, struggling to rip off a piece and swallow it.

Clair reluctantly cut a few more chunks of meat and put them in her bag. Afterwards she looked into the darkness, trying to think of where to go. There was no apparent way out, so the next best thing to do, so Clair thought, was to continue Northward. She figured for a moment that the light coming from the hole would provide some clue to the suns position and therefore her destined direction, but she noticed something very grave. The light, aside from being projected at a steep angle from the hole, was beginning to fade. The sun was setting and would soon leave her in total darkness.

She took a deep breath and pulled Willow closer with one hand as the other fell on her knife.

"I'll be safe. I just have to stay on my toes."

She then heard a faint moan in the dark. Willows head perched up with his hairs standing on end and he faced the unseen entity. Clair stared into the darkness in terror. She heard something slither through the bones, mixing sharp cracking noises with a sick slushing sound. She looked back down at the fading circle of light in which she stood. It had already moved about a meter and a half from its previous spot, leaving the dead d'hole. The once blinding yellow light had quickly faded. When the inevitable darkness comes, Clair thought, they would be left at the monster's mercy.

Clair thought quickly. She needed light; that was an immediate priority, but how to obtain light she had no idea. The creature moaned again and Willow responded with a sharp hiss. As Clair was franticly searching her bag, Willow was getting into his pouncing stance. The creature moaned again, this time letting Clair know it was closer. She gasped in horror when she saw the faintest trace of a giant, white slug slither on the edge of the darkness. Clair looked up at the hole, noting that it was almost sunset. Panic nearly set in before her fingers brushed the rugged box she was looking for. She instantly pulled out the matches, struck one, and prayed to the gods that the measly light was enough to ward off the d'hole. She quickly got her answer when its bleach white head erupted out of the darkness like a hideous Jack-in-the-Box, snapping its three-part jaws at the screaming girl. The match slipped from her fingers as she tried to force away the d'hole with her feet and landed on the inside of her coat, quickly catching fire.

"Shit!" she yelled as she impulsively removed her burning coat. The d'hole lurched forward again, this time catching full sight of the blaze that Clair held. Its eyes seemed to shrivel and it growled in pain, slowly retreating. Clair quickly got the idea and carefully wrapped her coat around an abnormally long femur, creating a make shift torch. She stood, leering at the darkness and the d'hole within. The beast pounced again, this time moving to avoid the fire, shifting around Clair to strike from behind. Clair turned as quickly as her reflexes allowed, swiping the torch through the space between them, leaving a bright streak of orange light in its wake. The d'hole shrieked again, recoiling as its eyes seemed to dim and shrink. Clair saw the opportunity and acted upon it. She unsheathed her knife and charged, shrieking the Ultharian battle cry. She forced her blade into one of the d'holes eyes and pulled it out as soon as the things green blood began flowing out like lava. Its head shot up towards the cavern sky, letting out deafening cry of pain. Clair stepped back, holding her torch in a battle stance like a sword. The d'hole regarded her with its remaining eye in furry and its jaws rapidly quivered in hunger. It then charged again, mouth opened to its fullest extent. Clair flanked around it, allowing the d'hole to crash head first into the bone littered ground. She stabbed its injured eye again, this time feeling its mushy skull break and give way to her blade as it plunged deeper into its brain. Clair pulled her blood-soaked arm away, leaving her knife inside the d'holes head. It thrashed abound on the ground in confused agony, kicking up dust and bone fragments as it did. Clair stepped away, grabbing the frightened Willow. They waited, and eventually the d'hole died, croaking a final death rattle.

Clair stared at the d'hole for some time, feeling a lot of guilt for killing not one but two d'holes. She had to for her and Willows sake, but never thought she had to kill anything for any reason other than food. She sighed. Willow regarded the human with soft eyes and a gently swaying tail. She slowly paced over to the d'hole. With a cringe, she plunged her arm into the beasts' mangled head, retrieving her knife. Without cleaning it, she put it back in its sheath, afterwards turning her gaze to the darkness.

"We're still alive." She smiled.

She grabbed her things and hoisted them on to her back. She noted that her torch was quickly dying. It was most likely due to the d'hole blood that had soaked her coat before before. She figured she only had about an hours' worth of light before it died.

"Dammit." She cursed. Unfortunately, it was an issue for a later time. The only thing she could do now was make the best of what light she had. She journeyed into the darkness with Willow trotting at her heels.

Above her, the sun had set in the overworld.


	8. Chapter 8

For weeks, nothing was visible. The torch had burned out long ago, depriving Clair of what little visibility she had. What's worse is that she was freezing. The stagnant, sunless air gradually began to nip at her bare arms, so she held them close as she trudged through the darkness. Eventually, the cold had gotten bad enough that she was willing to burn relatively useless items for heat, given the complete lack of wood or any other kindle. She even burned her map and Elder Sign cup. They only burned for a few seconds, or a minute at most, but the small instances of warmth was perhaps the best in world. For a time, she even considered burning her boots, but deemed it counterproductive.

Another chill went through her, prompting her to clutch her arms together.

"Dammit!" she yelled. "Why did I have to burn my coat?!". As her enraged voice spread through the cavern, she noticed that there was no echo, meaning no walls and no ceiling. If there were any, then they were far, far away, giving the Underworld caverns an unnaturally enormous size, like an unimaginably vast chamber. She wondered, if she could only see, what the Underworld would look like with walls miles away from one another and a roof as high as the Overworld sky. She also noticed she never bumped into anything aside from mammoth sized bones (Euoi Dragons came to mind) and the much-too-common skull mounds. There were no stalagmites. She figured they must have been buried in the ocean of bones millennia ago. What was most disconcerting, however, was that they were in the open and vulnerable to attacks from ghast, ghouls or whatever was down here. And she would never see them coming.

"I hate this place." She groaned.

Willow meowed in agreement.

Clair had been keeping a sharp ear. She carefully listened for any signs of Willows little footfalls to assure he was still there. She had also been listening for any signs of predation. She knew that somewhere in this vast cavern d'holes and ghouls were waiting for her. The idea of encountering a ghoul especially bothered her. She had never seen or met one before, but she knew, for one thing, that they were savage as any animal, but as cunning as a human. She also knew that ghouls rarely had a taste for living human flesh. They mainly preferred to eat dead, rotting corpses, but on occasions they kill people and let them "ripen" before they ate them. In their blind state, Clair and Willow would make easy prey.

She rummaged around her bag, feeling for the sick, slippery cuts she harvested from the d'hole. She found one and begrudgingly nibbled at it after giving Willow his share. She would have liked to have vomited it out as it slithered down her throat if it wasn't for the fact she was so hungry. She wished she had water. Her mouth was becoming unbearably dry, and the d,hole cuts, for some reason, only made it worse. Plus, she desperately needed to wash out the taste. But alas, there was no water, let alone anything that would help with survival in the Underworld. How odd it was that she was enjoying the natural beauty of the Overworld only a day ago (or two?), believing life was as wonderful as the vast Cerenarian or Ulthar beyond the river Skai, and now she's trekking the most horrible domain and all it took to find it was falling down the wrong hole. Her father told her the world was gray. Not black, not white; gray. He said there is no definitive good or evil to speak of, just a world where moral philosophy differs so much from person to person or creature to creature that such shallow concepts become meaningless to the "big picture". On contrary, she's seen sigils depicting ancient ideas of the opposite nature; a world where good and evil, with a clear line between them, govern the ongoings of the world. The latter idea was always easier to grasp, especially now.

She rubbed her arms, feeling the gooseflesh that arose with every random chill that struck her. There was no breeze (for such a thing would indicate a nearby cave exit), but the temperature was dropping. Her only guess is that she was going deeper underground, which was the exact opposite of where she wanted to go. "I fucking hate you, Nyarlathotep." She said in a random, but brief burst of anger. She could almost hear his wicked laughter.

Willow suddenly began purring, throwing Clair out of her thoughts. It was a rather unexpected noise given the present circumstances. At the same instance, she noticed a very strong and very foul odor. As she closed her hands around her mouth and nose, she tried to figure out what it could be. She remembered smelling a rotting ox that had gotten lost and ultimately died somewhere in the plains of Skai only a couple of years ago. The smell was like that, but not quite as strong, yet somehow worse.

"Willow?" she called into the darkness.

The cat continued purring. Every few seconds he would make a slurping or smacking sound as if he was…

"Willow, what are you eating?"

Willow meowed in apparent delight and continued to scarf down whatever. Clair began feeling slightly jealous. She was stuck eating d'hole meat while Willow was enjoying his mystery meal (She briefly wondered if even he knew what it was). Clair sniffed the air again. The foul odor had become more prominent. Clair thought that whatever Willow was eating was also the source of the smell. Clair then struck a match, providing a measly little light that only lasted a minute, but it was enough to help her find Willow. To her horror, she saw her cat hunched over what had once been a person. As if Willow had no idea he was consuming human flesh, he continued eating in glee, ignoring the little light being cast over him. She skimmed the scene the second before the match burned out. The body was barely recognizable, what little of it she could see that is. It was merely a pile of half gelatinous muscle and tattered, grey skin encrusted in black fungi and centipede-esque creatures, cast chaotically over bones that still held the general human shape. The skull was draped in strands of flesh which hung like vines on the side of a tree. On top of the opened chest cavity was Willow, feasting on the bodies rotting entrails.

The scene was horrifying, especially since it involved Willow, but not nearly as horrifying as the implication it made: There where ghouls nearby.

Knowing Willow would be the easier target, she snatched him up, put him her satchel bag for protection and continued walking in caution.

Days seemed to pass and the duo have not come any closer to escaping. Clair trudged endlessly through the ceaseless sea of bones in the darkness, all the while losing morale and what little hope she had. Her blood felt as if it was going freeze inside her veins and her stomach was beginning to turn with the rancid d'hole meat she was eating. She constantly searched the infinite darkness around her with tearing eyes, desperately trying to make out any sign, any difference, and way to let her know she was making progress, but there was nothing except more darkness and loud snapping of ancient bones beneath her boots. Willow was getting more and more impatient. He would often howl and hiss while thrashing around inside his prison. Clair felt bad about keeping Willow in there and hoped he would understand, but there was hardly anything else to do.

Days more passed and still no sign of salvation. Clair had completely given up now. There was no light and no heat; she ran out of food; she was starving, dehydrated, freezing, and she could barely feel her blistered feet. Willow seemed equally as affected, for he had quickly fallen sluggish and quiet inside the bag. He had vomited a few times, completely unable to handle the d'hole meat, much less the rotting corpse he ate. Clair had no idea what to do now but sit down and cry. She curled up on the bone-linen ground, buried her head in her arms and wept. Willow, who had slipped out his bag, slowly prowled the area looking for a meal that would never come. The sound of his tiny, stealthy footfalls grabbed Clair's attention. She sat up and stared into the direction she thought Willow was in with tears running down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Willow." She croaked with a voice that remained unused for uncounted days. "I never meant for this to happen." Never before had she felt more hopeless or more forsaken. Bast and Nodens seemed to have forgotten them both. "We're going to die." That was all Clair could say now. Willow only mewed in response.

After minutes (or maybe hours) of sobbing, Clair began to see a small anomaly through her tears. It was small, very small, but against the unending darkness it stood out clear as day. It appeared to be a sort of orange speck of light in the distance directly ahead. She thought it might have been some sort of illusion or hallucination, for she was starved and fatigued well enough to justify such a claim, but none the less it provided her just a little bit of hope; hope she hasn't seen in many days. As she strained her sight, she began seeing more and more of the tiny lights, arranged in an apparent three-dimensional configuration with columns reaching towards the seemingly nonexistent ceiling and rows stretching in every direction save her own.

 _Pillars!_ Clair thought. _They must be pillars with torches attached!_

Without as much as a second thought, Clair ran towards the distant field of pillars at a mad speed with Willow following closely behind. Skulls and bones cracked and disintegrated beneath their hurried footfalls, complimenting their exhausted panting with a cacophony of snapping and popping. The lights drew ever closer, slowly revealing the dark grey cylindrical forms of the pillars. Her head was instantly flooded with hundreds of wonderful thoughts of escape the Underworld and returning to the Overworld where she would be able feel the warm rays of the heavens' sun and smell the sweet perfumes and nectars of the spectral groves along the humming shores of the Cerenarian Sea. If only these artificial structures could point the way!

Before long, she was nearly skidding to a stop before one of the glowing columns. The pillars, which were over ten meters in diameter, were adorned with various glyphs and crude images of ghouls that looked like freakish graffiti. Mounted around the circumference about six feet above the skull linen ground were seven gas torches. More torches, in similar arrangements, were mounted higher on the pillar. All around, spaced at about twenty-five meters, were more of the massive, carved pillars, each giving off its own isolated glow that dwindled as the pillars got further and further away.

Clair briefly remembered a story from her childhood and instantly lost what little hope she had to fear. It was a story about a mad artist named Pickman who had fallen in league with the Kingdom of Throk, home of the Ghouls, and very quickly payed for it. She didn't remember much about Throk, but the images of vast, torch lit pillars and jagged mountains stuck to her mind like tar. To her dread, she had wondered right into the home of the Ghouls.

Willow hissed at some unseen thing in the darkness. For a very long moment, all she heard was silence until a barely audible meeping creeped out of the darkness. Clair instantly recognized the call of the Ghouls and wasted no time in fleeing, stopping only to scoop up Willow and hold him in her arms. She ran, plunging deeper into the forest of stone pillars, trying to stick to the small pockets of orange light. The Ghouls meeped and howled more vigorously; their rapid pursuing footfalls becoming louder and louder as they came closer to their prey. Clair briefly looked back. The Ghouls were not visible, but their labored breathing and growling were clearly audible now, suggesting that the Ghouls were just beyond the reach of the light. Clair kept running, trying her best to keep her wit intact. Willow kicked and struggled to break free of Clair's hold, but she refused to give in to Willow's protest. She would rather let the ghouls kill her first if they get caught and give Willow a small chance of escape.

She unsheathed her knife in preparation for the inevitable fight, but kept running in hopes of escape. She quickly looked behind her and saw a pair luminescent, red eyes following her in darkness. All around she could see more glowing ghoul eyes bobbing and darting through the shadows, keeping their bloody gaze locked on her.

Suddenly, one of them leaped out of the dark, charging at her with teeth bared. The dim torch light gave the pursuers form and Clair could see that they were pale and malnourished things that were like sickly hybrids between humans and dogs with an anthropoid torso and arms atop a pair of hooved and double bent legs. Their faces were like those of hairless wolves, but thinner and covered in skin that looked nearly mummified.

Clair tried running faster but the pursuing ghoul was far too fast, so she did an abrupt turn and faced the beast. Despite her fear, she let out the Ultharian battle cry as the ghoul made its final leap at her, jaws agape and dripping saliva. She thrust her knife forward and felt it wedge into the ghoul's ribcage. It stumbled backward in shock, letting out a painful roar as blood cascaded out of its chest and down its pale abdomen. Clair took advantage of the moment and continued running, only looking back to see more ghouls dart past their dying comrade (Only one stopped to pay any attention to it) and continue their chase. Inside her arms, Willow was getting more and more restless. He kicked and struggled so furiously that Clair considered putting back in her satchel until another ghoul leaped at her. She narrowly avoided it with a quick roll to her left and briefly saw the ghoul stumbling over itself as it tried turning as quickly as she did. She quickly found her path blocked by another ghoul, and when she tried turning another way, another ghoul halted her. She took a quick look around her and discovered, to her horror, that she was trapped in a circle of ghouls. Clair knew all too well that she was as good as dead, but hoped that her mildly sharp wit and only hunting knife could save her somehow. She took her battle stance and prepared for a fight. Willow squirmed out of her grasp and gracefully landing into his own battle stance.

The ghouls around her snarled and gibbered, clawing at the ground in anticipation. One of them, a tall and brooding ghoul who was presumably their leader, leered at the girl's blood covered knife, watching with interest as she leered back. With a light tap of his hoof, the head ghoul discretely signaled a smaller comrade. In response, the small ghoul nodded and quietly crept to the girl from behind and wrapped a boney claw around her neck and snatched her knife out of her hand as another ghoul grabbed the shrieking Willow and held him in a headlock. She let out a chocked scream as the ghoul squeezed her throat and she watched in fear as her only weapon was passed from ghoul to ghoul until it landed in the claws of the head ghoul. He snarled at the knife that reeked with the blood of one of his own and looked back at its owner with eyes filled with hatred.

As if in mercy, the ghouls let go of the pair and watched as they fell to the ground, chocking. As Clair struggled to regain her breath, she watched through foggy eyes as Willow instantly gathered himself up and ran to Clair, coming face to face with his old friend. Willow gazed at Clair with fear struck eyes, as if asking Clair if they were about to die. Clair knew she was probably going to die, but thought that Willow had a chance for survival if he could simply run.

"Go…" Clair said with a painful voice. Willow didn't move. He simply crawled into Clair's lap and purred. Willow looked at the fear stricken Clair again with much love in his gaze. Clair would miss him and could tell that he would miss her, but he had to leave.

"Go!" Clair shouted. Willow stood his ground. The ghouls around her chuckled in an inhuman way, savoring the girls suffering before they could feast. Willow stood, putting his face closer to Clair's and licked her dirt covered nose. Clair then saw something new in Willow's gaze. Intelligence; a dangerous yet caring intelligence. Clair had always thought Willow was smart, even for his kind, but she saw a form of knowledge and wisdom that only few humans could ever hope to rival. It was almost as if Willow was a divine entity. Suddenly, Clair heard a very gentle voice in her head. The voice fell silent as she looked one last time at Willow's golden eyes. She rubbed her bloody hand through Willow's fur and realized that, somehow, the voice was coming from Willow.

" _Leave here now, Clair"_. Willow said. _"Run and do not turn back. I love you and pray that Bast will be ever with you"_.

"Willow…?" Clair had whispered, completely astonished. Before she could say more, Willow leaped out of Clair's lap and charged at the head ghoul. He howled with an unearthly fury and jumped. He dug his claws into the ghoul's abdomen, gaining purchase for another jump at the ghouls snouted face. Willow hissed and growled as he clawed and butchered the ghoul's already scarred face. Clair (and not to mention the other ghouls) stood petrified as Willow ravaged the ghoul leader with a level strength and persistence that should not have belonged to a cat. The head ghoul roared and ripped the hysterical cat off his face. He then violently slammed the cat onto the ground, pinning him down, and raised Clair's knife above the struggling feline's body, ready to end Willow's life.

"NO!" Clair screamed as she quickly stood and rushed to her friend's rescue, but it was too late. The ghoul brought down the knife on Willows chest, striking him dead almost instantly. Clair stopped in utter disbelief. She watched as Willow lay dying before her in a pool of his own blood, her knife sticking out of him like the spear of an ally in the body of a slain soldier. It almost felt like she herself had killed Willow. She fell to her knees. Her hands covered her trembling mouth and tears streamed down her face, cutting through the black dirt that covered it. She looked one last time into Willows eyes as his life faded. Willow was gone.

The mad storm of emotion that raged through her head was unlike anything she felt before. The hatred, anger, fear, sorrow, guilt, hopelessness and mournfulness was too much to bear in that moment, so simply froze, trying to make sense of the chaos in her mind.

In Ulthar there is law that forbids the killing of cats, yet the only reason that law existed was to assure that Ulthar or its people were never smitten by Bast or her children. It would not be surprising if Bast were to suddenly kill the ghouls for their crimes, and a part of her felt good about that. Yet she would not be surprised if she herself would also be stricken, and a part of her felt good about that. She wondered if Willow would transcend and go to Heaven with Bast or J'Hov-ah (the obscure god of the mad Ramblers in Nir), and a part of her felt good about that. But Willow was gone now, and the knife protruding out of his corpse like a monolith was a testament to the fact that Willow could have lived if she had only left him in Ulthar with their family. Clair would accept divine punishment from the Elder Gods if only Willow could live again or if she could undo everything that has happened since she left Ulthar. Clair wondered if the Gods did care or if they had forgotten about the insignificant likes of humans and cats. Was Willow's calming voice just delirium? Was Nyarlathotep's voice just delirium? Were the old scriptures and rites of priests and monks just nonsense? Would the Gods ever hear any human suffering or even care about it? She had lived a good life until now, but Clair had lost someone infinitely important to her and she couldn't bring herself to cry to Bast or Nodens again. After all the pain and unheeded cries, Clair truly wondered if the Gods were dead.

The head ghoul leered and leveled a twisted finger at the crying girl before him, signaling the other ghouls to kill her, but everything stopped as the sound of two loud, sharp, and brief explosions cut through the underworld.


	9. Chapter 9

Clair pressed her hands to her temples. The deafening sound of the explosions sent a shock through her ears and into her head. She had never heard anything like it before, but it vaguely reminded her of high-end firecrackers like those used in Ulthar's Liberation Days (when Ulthar was freed from Hatheg's domain), yet this new sound was far louder and far fiercer. After the sounds came silence. She opened her eyes to see her dog faced captors gazing off into the darkness behind her, their shocked and angry faces dimly aglow by the nearby torches. On either side of her was a dead ghoul, each one with half its face apparently blown away and replaced by gaping, mangled wounds, as if they were actually slain by firecrackers. They were the same ghouls that had restrained her and Willow. Quickly realizing she was might also be in danger, she checked herself for wounds, but only found that she was covered in fresh splatters of ghoul blood.

"PICKMAN!" a voice shouted out of the shadows. The head ghoul's scowl seemed to steepen and he meeped in anger at the unseen being in the darkness, who Clair turned to behold as he emerged. He was old, probably in his sixties and seventies, and wore a slightly ragged outfit that resembled a gentleman's suit. His face was heavily lined and haggard with a full head of silver hair and a short beard. In one hand, he held what Clair could only assume was a gun, much like the ones the guards of Thran were armed with, and it was pointed right at the head ghoul's forehead. In the other, he held an odd, stick-like torch or lantern with an unnaturally steady beam of light currently pointed at ground. The man's eyes, which were filled with concern rather than fear or anger, glared at the ghoul's red, loathing eyes.

"Pickman," the man repeated. "I've already told you I never want to see you hunt another live human again. You eat the dead, not the living!"

The head ghoul, Pickman (Clair was surprised to learn the fate of one of her childhood monsters), growled in defiance and took a few steps closer as the old man slowly approached. Though Clair was caught in the middle of a standoff, she quickly remembered Willow. Her sight instantly found her friends bloody remains and she quickly crawled over to him, ignoring the ghoul and the human that were about to kill each other. Tears flooded her eyes again and her face turned red as she held the cat she had known so long. She gently pulled the knife out of her friend's body and tried to clean as much blood out of his fur as possible. After which she simply sat, silently sobbing and cradling what was left of Willow.

"I can't let you harm another one." The old man said to Pickman. They were now standing face to face. Pickman stood at his full height, towering an extra foot above his adversary, who planted his trembling gun underneath Pickman's jaw.

Pickman meeped and snapped his jaws in aggression and the man clicked his gun in response.

"I guess you're not wrong. You can do whatever you want, but I've know you for several hundred years, even before you degenerated to…" the man gestured at the ghoul's grotesque body for emphasis. "…to this! I know you're better than this! You used to care about living humans…"

Pickman roared in response, dousing the man's face with saliva and breath that smelled like rotting corpses.

The old man smiled, wiping some of Pickman's spit off his cheek. "I'm not afraid to kill you my old friend, but please, for the love of Christ don't make me do it. All you have to do is walk away and leave that kid alone."

Pickman gave a low growl.

"Yes, I'm sorry I killed Kalio and Zas, but I've got look out for my species too!"

Pickman stood silent. His crimson eyes narrowed and then he leaned into the old man's ears and whispered something in vague English. "Had eh-nuff…of you. Fock you. Go…die." The ghoul said. Pickman signaled his comrades to retreat, and they all loped away in defeat save for Pickman and a large, hunchbacked ghoul who struggled to lift and carry the two deceased ghouls. As Pickman continued his hateful leer, showing no signs of backing down, the old man wondered for a moment if he would have to kill his old friend after all. They've done amazing things together over the years, both on the long-forgotten Earth and in their native realm. After the wild journeys and battles fought against the Moon-Beast, it was very sad to watch one of his few and closest allies degenerate into something worse than a ghoul (for he had already known that Pickman was a ghoul at heart, but still a noble being). Pickman only ate what ghouls ate and in doing so equalized the natural order that humans upset by burying their dead in concrete vaults where they couldn't return to the Earth and become part of the cycle again, but in recent centuries Pickman's taste developed and he began craving living human flesh. Whether it was under Pickman's control or not the man could not tell, but he could never allow anyone to fall victim to such atrocious whims much less allow an old friend to become a monster. Randolph Carter hated the thought of having to kill him, but fortunately he didn't

Pickman slowly backed down, crawling away over bones that were once meals several generations ago. He merged with the darkness and vanished and returned to those he considered his kin. When Carter was sure Pickman was gone, he holstered his gun and turned his attention to the young girl he had saved. She didn't seem to notice him. She was still cradling and sobbing over the dead cat. Who's to say Carter couldn't understand? Not only had he seen firsthand the crazy and amazing shit cats can do, but he had met many Ultharian cats in his travels, most notably a particular black kitten who served in Ulthar's secret battalion. Each and every cat he met proved to be a noble and loyal creature capable of immense wisdom and the death of one of her own, Bast is surely weeping along with this traveler, that is if there is a Bast.

"Are you alright?" Carter asked.

Clair didn't respond. She didn't even hear her rescuer talking. Carter silently walked up to the crouched next to her. Her face was stained with dirt and blood and her eyes were bloodshot and weary looking as they weeped over the body in her arms. She was gently stroking the lifeless cat's fur as if he was still alive.

"Hey." Carter gently called.

Clair only paid him a brief, sideways glance and went back to stroking Willow.

The old man signed, placing an aged hand on Clair's shoulder. "It's tough, I know. I've lost plenty of friends myself."

Clair didn't respond.

"I know it's not the best time to ask, but what are you doing in the Underworld?"

Still no response. Carter understood, though. She was obviously in shock.

"Look," Carter said. "I can imagine you're starving, cold, need somewhere to be. If you'd like, you can come over to my house and I can give you plenty of food and water. You can get some rest and tell your story later. Does that sound good?"

There was a long silence. Carter didn't expect the girl to answer him, but eventually she gave a slight nod in approval.

Carter looked at the dead cat the girl was holding so close. "We can also bury your friend in a more respectful place."

Clair gave the old man a dull glance and responded in a hoarse voice, just loud enough to hear "His name is Willow."

Carter gave a slight chuckle. "What a lovely name. Speaking of names, what's yours?" he asked as he helped the girl to her feet.

"Clair of Ulthar." She struggled to gain purchase on the uneven ground while also trying to keep Willow in her arms.

"Ulthar, eh? I've been there. Such a wonderful little town." Carter picked up Clair's bag and flung it over his shoulder. "I hope you don't mind if I help you carry your things. You seem to have enough to worry about. Anyways, I'm Randolph Carter of Boston."

A slight look of recognition came across Clair's face and Carter couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I'm that Randolph Carter, but you can call me Randy." He manifested his odd light devise out of his pocket. As he turned the more bulbous end of its cylindrical body, a bright ray of light shot out of it and sliced through the surrounding dark, out-glowing even the nearby torch lanterns. Clair tried not to seem as astounded by Carter's unusual tech as she actually was, but Carter noticed anyways. "Oh, I forgot. You Ultharian people aren't used to modern day technology, are you?" Clair could hear the faintest trace of arrogance in his voice. She knew that wasn't at all true, and couldn't help but feel a little offended. She had seen and used technology before, albeit the occasions were awfully rare. Plus, Ulthar's burgomaster and some of the other high-ranking citizen's (especially the dean at the University) were notorious for using new devises like automobiles and phones. While Clair quickly affiliated the thing with Ultharian "electro-torches" , it was still unlike anything she had ever seen in both structure and brilliance. "It's called a 'flashlight'" Carter said.

Without another word, Carter began his trek into the darkness, following the beam of his flashlight. With Willow's peaceful body in her arms, Clair followed.


End file.
